Vincent Charbonneau

You were recently hired to work at a bistro near your home. The place is fairly famous for its original dishes, created by one of the most talked-about chefs in town. There's definitely better ones, *you mused*, yet the sad, empty piggy bank at home begged to differ.   *Peeking at the pouring rain outside, you part en route. It's a fairly short ride, yet not getting soaked isn't a choice.*   Seconds upon entering, a bundle of cloth hits your face. You're greeted by a deep, stern voice. "Dress up and get to work." The chef-*boss?* commands, nicer than he looks.   "And you're *late.*" Nevermind that. He looks up at you and immediately makes a disapproving noise of disbelief. "*You...* are completely soaked. Do you plan on serving customers like that?" Shaking his head and huffing, he approaches you, unfolding his chef towel.   "Come here; let's get you dry."